From the Passenger Seat
by yellowstarshine
Summary: Post-ep fic for 5x03. "It was hard during times like this, just the two of them alone in the car. The calm, mostly-deserted streets made him feel they were the only two people in the world. It would be so easy to let it all tumble out."


Title: From the Passenger Seat

Author: yellowstarshine

Rating: G

Pairing: Booth/Brennan

Word Count: 1,201

Spoilers: Through 5x03 The Plain in the Prodicy.

Summary: Post-ep fic for 5x03. Booth POV. _It is hard during times like this, just the two of them alone in the car. The calm, mostly-deserted streets made him feel they were the only two people in the world. It would be so easy to let it all tumble out._

Disclaimer: _Bones_ and its lovely characters are not mine. No infringement intended.

Author's note: I don't write a lot of fic and this is the first one I'm posting to . Feedback is always appreciated, but keep in mind I'm a newbie. The title of this story and the lyrics used in the beginning and the end are from the Death Cab for Cutie song _Passenger Seat_.**  
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**I roll the window down****  
And then begin to breathe in****  
The darkest country road****  
And the strong scent of evergreen  
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.**

* * *

He still wasn't allowed to drive at night. Something about possible perception problems and lights. Bones probably knew the specifics. Which was why when the sun started to go down on the drive home from Pennsylvania she made him pull over and let her drive. The old Booth probably would have fought her on it. He could certainly drive himself fine. But post-surgery Booth was not as sure about anything anymore.

The streetlights flashed by on the highway and caught the metal of his belt buckle. He stared at it for a minute. "Boothy," she had called it. He had been unsure about wearing it. Day after day he stared at it hanging on the hook behind his bedroom door. When he finally decided to put it on, it felt right, like another piece of the puzzle fitting into place. And when she called it "Boothy" he mentally slammed the piece home. He would get them all back eventually, and if he couldn't, he at least wanted to get back the ones she knew most.

He looked over at her, confident in the driver's seat. He thought she looked cute commandeering his giant car, but he would keep that thought to himself.

"What Booth?" she said, eyes remaining on the road.

He smiled and looked back out his window.

"Nothing Bones," he said before pushing the button on his window to let some of the night air in.

He didn't see her frown but he heard it in the silence between them and he mentally revised his earlier thoughts. He was still sure about her.

"I thought we don't have secrets Booth," she said finally, in her way. Not accusatory, just...curious.

He chuckled.

"We don't," he assured her. White lies, and spotty declarations of love disguised as partnerly affection maybe, but he saw those as different; necessary half-truths just biding their time. Not secrets.

"Honestly, Bones, I was just thinking about a lot of things, but nothing very important."

It was his turn to frown. That might have been a lie. He had been thinking about her and she was important. Close to the most important. But that might be one of those things locked up and waiting. He didn't want to scare her.

She shrugged, "Okay."

"What about you Bones?" he asked, hoping to take some of the scrutiny off of himself. "What are you thinking about?"

She paused. "At first I was thinking about the case and how much of a shame it all was, and how much less satisfying motiveless crimes are to solve. Even though they shouldn't be because we still caught a killer."

He smiled. He knew that a random act of violence would be hard for her to swallow. "And then?"

She glanced at him before turning back to the road. "Then I was thinking about you."

He looked concerned. "I'm fine Bones," he assured her. "See," he turned his belt buckle up. "I've even got the belt buckle to prove it." He smiled at her.

He watched her smile briefly at the road ahead of them.

"What's wrong Bones?" he asked.

"Do you miss anything from the dream you had while in a coma?" she asked without taking her eyes from the road.

He frowned and resisted the urge to tell her that Sweets had asked him the same thing. He's pretty sure she would not be thrilled with the comparison. He also knows that he dodged the question when Sweets asked it. Could he do the same with her? Did he want to?

He sighed and raked a hand over his face before answering.

"No secrets, right?" he said, more as a statement than a question.

She nodded but stayed silent.

"Yea, I do," he confessed finally.

Was she going to ask for specifics? How much should he confess to? It is hard during times like this, just the two of them alone in the car. The calm, mostly-deserted streets made him feel like they were the only two people in the world and the dark made the lines between his dream world and the real world blur. It would be so easy to let it all tumble out.

"Me too," she said quietly, interrupting his thoughts.

That stunned him. They had discussed the striking similarities between her novel and his dream, and he of course could not stop returning to the fact that she had even written such a thing to begin with. But for her to confess that she actually missed something as illogical as a reality that never existed? A reality where they were married and pregnant? Well that just rendered him speechless. She was a constant surprise.

"I know it's a stupid and illogical thing to miss," she qualified as her hands clasped and unclasped the steering wheel nervously. "I mean, how can you miss something that was never real? That just came from your own mind? It makes no sense."

And that's when he realized that maybe he wasn't the only one trying to put some pieces back together right now. That he wasn't the only one who lost parts of himself during the coma.

He looked at her and smiled slightly before covering her tense hand with his own and bringing it to rest in his on the console between them, smoothing his thumb over the back.

He wasn't sure what he was doing, but she had stopped trying to deconstruct her own feelings and had yet to protest the gesture. He took it as a sign that he was doing the right thing.

They didn't have to talk about it. They didn't have to label it or quantify it or dissect the logic. It could mean nothing. Or it could mean everything. Right then, it didn't matter. They still had an hour or so drive to go and maybe for right now they could just let things be whatever it was they were or whatever it was they were becoming.

And they did.

* * *

**When you feel embarrassed  
I'll be your pride.  
When you need direction  
I'll be the guide.  
For all time.**

**For all time.**

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End file.
